


Suits You Well

by LaughingMcNugget



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Basically keep it in your pants, F/M, Humiliation, Masturbation, Objectification, danse - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 14:49:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6243931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaughingMcNugget/pseuds/LaughingMcNugget
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cole fits more than just the red hair and biotech, and a smouldering secret is burning the Paladin from the inside out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Suits You Well

Nicole, _Nicole_. He didn’t think it suited her. Stuffy, almost, like she were a high caste and her name could only be spoken by those with their snoots in the air. Like courtier, as it was, perhaps even a queen. This woman, this tiny fighter, future Knight under his command, was no fragile queen. Cole; Paladin Danse had settled in his mind, fit her much better. Like the burning red of her hair, and the streaking electric scars down her spine that delved beyond where he could see from the times she’d tie her sleeves around her waist. It fit the fire alight in her eyes when she’d defiantly stop up in front of him, stare him down and pry every emotion from behind his stoic face with an ease that frightened him. Cole, like coals and ash that she’d risen from time and time again; the burning remnants, the phoenix with the Institute and Minutemen made arm. The Paladin had been hesitant to trust her when he’d first met her, he knew the look of the enemy’s hardware and it was sewn into her skin, it burned bright red in the fuel lines that traveled over the white painted metal. But she’d charged in, and tore ferals apart with her metal arm, and singed them into nothing but ash with the burning blaster on her palm. When Danse first encountered her, she left nothing but coals in her wake. She’d collapsed in the coals, choked out like a smothered flame, and bleeding bright red.

That’s why Cole fit her better.

  
Even though she was small, even though she was easily overlooked, she commanded respect and threw down when she was denied it. The Paladin’s eyebrows furrowed when he remembered the fight Rhys had initiated with her, and how she picked him up bodily and threw him onto a sleeping bag. She didn’t hurt him, and he was thankful, but she showed power that the Knight feared instantly.   
The smell of her entered the room; beet dye and carrot, air and fertile soil. Sparing a glance, the Paladin shifted stance just in time to see her stride up to him. A smudge of dirt was across her cheek, sticks in her red hair and blood on her uniform.

She smiled up at him “I’ve found Paladin Brandis, sir. He has decided to rejoin the Brotherhood, should it be in the Elders interest, sir.”

  
 _Sir, sir_ Danse hated the word when it came from her mouth. ‘Danse’ she should call him, excitedly gripping the front of his armor to tug him along show him what she’d found. ‘Danse’ like a friend when she’d prop a leg up on his knee as they sat together, smoking, drinking, even just talking casually. ‘ _Danse_ ’ she’d whisper-no-moan when he’d brush her neck with his lips, pressing light kisses against her hot skin and-.

  
“Sir?”

  
Sir. He was still sir.

  
“I’m sorry Initiate Spencer, you’ll have to repeat that. My mind was-“ _between your legs, like a cut-rate merc_ “-elsewhere.”

  
She still smiled at him, however her tight salute faltered, and she scrubbed at the dirt oh her cheek with her organic palm “Paladin Brandis is alive, sir, and he wants to rejoin. I want to give him my bedroll if that is alright with you. He’s too thin to be sleeping on the floor, the poor man.”

  
The look she gave him was nothing short of angelic, she could have told him that she’d been forced to shoot the old Paladin and he would have not held any anger towards her because of those damn, innocent looking radstag doe eyes. Oh, he would have murdered to see perversion flicker in those brown eyes as she looked at him. It was pitiful on his part, and Danse wanted to douse himself with cold water to think clearly while she looked at him. While she nibbled her lip nervously awaiting his response, rocked slightly on her feet and made a lock of her cherry red, half-shaven hair fall across one golden-green eye. Danse could have thanked himself for wearing his power armor as often as he did, as the sudden urge to brush away the strand with his hand, to nibble and suck her lip himself and rock her hips against him, made him swell in an obvious and torturous way. So much that he’d almost pressed the heel of his palm to the codpiece of his armor to grind against the frame. Even now there was the slightest pressure that the Paladin quite forcefully clamped into the self control not to rut against. That would be a sight. ‘ _Why yes, I am a high ranking Paladin of the Brotherhood of Steel, and yes I am rubbing one out like a lovelorn Squire in front of my underling._ ’

  
“Of course, Initiate. Job well done.” His voice had dropped, noticeably, and he’d growled her title as though he were to claim her a moment afterwards.

  
She puffed her chest slightly at the praise.  
Nicole noticed his tone, eyebrows raised and golden-brown eyes glittering red with the sudden surge of light from her piping. But whatever emotion surged through her veins, through her tubes, was gone in an instant. “Is there anything else you needed, Sir?”

  
He loved when she glowed brightly like that. He wished she would do it more. For him.

  
“No, that will be all. You’re dismissed.”

  
For one of the first times, aside from dealing with non-feral ghouls, she looked at him with distrust. Not angry, perhaps the slightest bit coy, but untrusting all the same. “Thank you, sir.”

  
The newest warrior turned sharply on her heel and marched from the Paladin’s room down to where the underlings slept. Danse nearly seethed at the thought of Rhys and Haylen sleeping just inches from her, while he was a floor up, alone on a mattress that was too big without her on it. He did cringe, minutely, taking into account that she would be sleeping on the floor tonight, unable to get a good nights rest amid the rubble, and all because of his damn decorum making it impossible to let her share his bed. There was nothing he could do about that, regardless of how much he wanted to. Soldiers were tough; one night on the floor, though it pained him to think of, wouldn’t kill her. Though he would make a point to accompany her to find another suitable bedpad for her. That was a matter for tomorrow... and there were _pressing needs_ that required his attention. Immediately. With her safely downstairs, he finally sunk out of his armor, the suit hissing and slumping over while it was powered down. Just the slight shift in temperature made his cock throb against his leg, straining the leather uniform even more than it had before. A pain-filled look crossed his face as he strode to shut the door, one hand out to grab the knob and twist it locked, the other passionately palming at his erection. He groaned her name. The latch clicked, and the tumbler fell shut with a sliding ‘thunk’. No sooner than that did the Paladin claw off his uniform, tugging desperately at the zipper with one hand and rutting into the other. A brief image of her hand over his uniform, groping the hot leather and whining for him popped into his head. God he needed to get off now. It wasn’t fair of him to think of her like this, but tensions ran high, and he would deal with his demons later. Even if now he cared to little to restrain himself. The burnt orange leather, and his white boxers pooled around his knees, and a swift kick had him free and exposed to the warm air that still smelled like her.

Like her cherry red hair that would fall onto his shoulders and that he’d run his hands through while she rode him. Danse thrust against his palm and forced a moan down from his throat. He worked himself while moving to lay face down on his mattress, thankful that the springs were long rusted and gone, to avoid any revealing squeaking.

  
-

  
Squeaking. Her pinned beneath him, she was drooling and gasping from pleasure as he rut into her while the mattress-his mattress on the Prydwen- squeaked and shuttered from the force. Everyone aboard knew he’d claimed her from the way she cried his name again and again, their movement pounding the bedframe against the metal walls.

  
His hips arched downward, hand being joined by the other to encompass his cock fully. He let out the moan that time, breathy and almost silent against the sound of the wind that howled outside.

  
Thank the eternal steel for radstorms.

  
The Paladin rolled his shoulders, imagining her tracing gentle red lines into his skin to mirror the scars on hers. He’d learn her scars by heart, tracing them with his fingers, idly while they laid together in the dark warmth of his quarters; snuggled, naked, and lovestruck under the blankets. He’d trace them with his tongue and taste the salt of her skin while she keened -oh- and arched to tempt him to take her. Or he’d trace it with the tip of his cock, wedged between the two of them as she pressed her soft ass against his apex -he could almost feel it-. “ _Danse_ ” she’d moan softly, shoulders arched to make room for his hands to slip under. He wouldn’t, however, his hands would be on her breasts, soft and touchable and tipped with nipples the color of a dark pink and dusty sunset. -Oh god-

  
His head rolled forward, one hand clamping over his mouth and the other stone still while he fucked it quick and hard, soaked with precum and sweat. A rough thumb swirled tenderly over his head, like it were her tongue-oh, her tongue-laving over it while she took him in her mouth.

  
The scene in his mind changed; they had just fought off a horde of synths, and were holed up in Arcjet labs for the night. The fearful vault dweller curled in his arms as he calmed her and coddled away her fear of the raging radstorm. She’d very gently, very sweetly pace him backwards, until he met the wall, then fell to her knees with her little hands gripping his hips.

  
“I want it, I want to thank you, Danse.” She’d purr up at him, desire making her gold-green eyes tremble and flicker like fire in the red lights cast by her prosthetic.   
She’d run her hands down the insides of this thighs, and butterfly kiss him over the leather of his uniform.

He removed his hand, opting to stroke down the heated and wet insides of his legs to feel the fantasy play out. The sudden absence of pressure made him drop his jaw to beg for her _‘Please, dear god please touch me.’_

  
He was naked a moment later and her mouth, hot and wet and-so, so good!-was wrapped around the now throbbing purple head. Those sweet lips pressed to his skin and left a burning sensation when she’d tilted her head and rubbed a hand over his balls.

  
He cupped his balls at the thought, massaging them and feeling how tight they sat against his body. The scene changed, and he was looking up at her. She’d play with them while she rode him with deep strides, thick, soft thighs rolling off his hips and the motion making her breasts jiggle.

  
He barely held on by a thread, hand tight against him and body curling forward around the apex of pleasure that was his hand fisting around his cock. A soft whine of need broke his lips “Cole” his voice broke and hung in the air as he came on his chest, dripping and still rocking his hips into his fist, imagining her riding out his orgasm and keening his name. _“I love you. Danse! I love you!_ ”

  
The high was still so strong, nearly five seconds after spilling and the Paladin still rocked into his fist, moaning louder and louder, fingers rubbing circles against his balls to draw out the image of her throwing her head back as he spilled into her.

As she begged him to come inside, and he happily obliged. She’d smile when he seeded her, and she’d coo his name gently and softly.

  
He kept wanking, kept moving his hips and making himself groan in pain and pleasure at the overstimulation. Relief. Punishment. His forehead pressed deep into the mattress and his entire torso ached from the thunderous pounding in his chest. Tears were streaming down his scruffy cheeks from the overpowering sensation, and he finally stilled.

  
She’d grow still above him, leaning down and scattering fluttery soft kisses over his chest and neck, humming her favorite tune to him as he dozed with her in his arms.

  
He refused to move, braced over his sticky shame and tearfully wishing he’d had more self control.

  
Cole, as it was, would consume him like flames. Cole suited her.

**Author's Note:**

> You guys let me know when you tire of my half-rate smut, okay?


End file.
